Penitent Trent
by SickoLady
Summary: Daria and Jane get a bad grade on their mixed media project after Trent fails to provide the music. Trent, (whose starting to crush on Daria, while at the same time, becoming jealous of her growing friendship with the much more reliable, Tom) has an extra edgy alternative way to apologize. He asks her to spank him.
warning: This story contains copious amounts of pervy drivel. More specifically, Daria spanking Trent and other fluffy relationship crap. There's also cursing. So if you can't handle that then do yourself a favor and go read something else. Or read this anyway. I don't really care. Its up to you.

Penitent Trent

Daria walked to the Lane house and rang the doorbell. Jane answered the door. Her hair short dark hair disheveled; blue eyes squinting.

"Oh, hi, Daria," Jane said. Her voice was groggy and nasal and Daria suspected that she had only just woken up. It was typical for Jane to sleep until noon on the weekends but Daria didn't care. She was intent on watching the _Sick, Sad World The Movie_ matinee in the theater at 11:00.

"Hi Jane," Daria replied with her grading monotone. "Did I wake you?"

"Uh…no actually, since I'm failing language arts, I have to go get extra help at this lame learning center. It really sucks," said Jane.

"Tell me about it," droned Daria abysmally. "Now I have to watch the stupid movie at 4, when it costs twice as much money and there'll be twice as many obnoxious people to put up with."

"Sorry, Daria. We'll have to go see the movie later. I've got to leave in like 15 minutes before I've got to leave," said Jane.

"Your mother really wants you to get extra help? What happened to all of her, holding a butterfly tightly in your hand crap?" Daria droned.

"Yea, well…I guess she doesn't want me to turn out a jobless deadbeat like Trent," groaned Jane.

"Makes sense," droned Daria sarcastically. "Where is that precious butterfly? Resting his fragile wings?"

"Asleep probably," said Jane. "He was out all night again."

"Of course," Daria droned, rolling her eyes. "I can't believe I used to have a crush on that loser. I am _so_ over it. I mean if he had just written the thirty seconds of music we needed, you would be passing language arts right now and we could just go see the movie."

"Yea….he's an ass. We can go see the movie later, Daria. I've got to go."

"Tell me the truth. Is he on drugs?" Daria droned. "I bet he's on drugs."

"I dunno," said Jane, shrugging indifferently. "Maybe. You can ask him yourself, if you care."

"I _don't_ care," replied Daria bluntly.

Jane put her coat on and left the house with her mother. Daria watched the two of them pull out of the driveway and drive off, with a dour pissed off expression. Then, walked away. This was all Trent's fault. Jane would be passing language arts right now if he had just cared enough to keep his promise and finish the damn soundtrack to their mixed media project. Daria kept walking. She put her hands in the pockets of her green jacket, and scowled, shuffling her large black boots against the gritty sidewalk. She was feeling ashamed of her attraction to Trent now and foolish for trusting him. He was a slacker; a deadbeat; a lazy jobless hipster with a guitar. She was way too smart to fall for a guy like that. It was time to move on.

…

"I can't believe I used to have a crush on that loser. I am _so_ over it. I mean if he had just written the thirty seconds of music we needed, you would be passing language arts right now and we could just go see the movie," Trent heard Daria groan disparagingly.

"Yea, he's an ass….," Jane's nasal voice affirmed.

Trent trudged over to the refrigerator scowling. He opened it and found it empty except for a few condiments and a sticky red stain that might have once been cherry soda. He slammed the refrigerator door shut and trudged back to the living room.

Daria and Jane were gone. Trent sat down on the couch in the living room. The light from the muted tv burned his eyes and his head pounded with an intense hangover. He closed his eyes and laid down on the couch. _Daria used to have a crush on me?_ he thought, feeling confused. He had never exactly known how to interpret Daria's behavior around him. But the idea that she _liked_ him made the corners of his mouth twitch with a subtle smile. He liked her too. Over time, her ironic cynical nature had really won him over and now he really liked hanging out with her. Thoughts about her intruded on him while he was writing songs, breaking up with his on-again-off-again girlfriend, hanging out with the band and drinking at parties. It was as though she had invaded his brain.

Trent frowned. He sat up and opened his eyes. The light from the muted tv made them sting and water and he closed them again, cradling his throbbing forehead with both hands. _She's still mad at me though,_ he thought, feeling depressed. _Maybe she doesn't like me anymore._

Trent collapsed back onto the couch, closed his eyes and slept off his hangover for another couple of hours. Then he got up and trudged toward the front door, intent on finding Daria.

…

Later that day, Daria returned to the Lane house and knocked on the front door. Trent answered it.

"Heey, Daria," he said. His slow deep monotone was as seductive as ever and Daria felt disgusted with herself for getting turned on by it.

"Hey, Trent," Daria replied unenthusiastically. "Is Jane here?"

"Janey's still at the tutoring center," said Trent.

"Oh. Ok," said Daria. "Bye then."

Trent's face flushed slightly and he blurted out: "Daria, wait."

Daria stared at him blankly; her eyes narrowed; her expression apathetic. He could never be sure what she was thinking. She had that perfect poker face.

"Want to hang out for awhile?"

Daria paused for a moment as though contemplating this.

"Um….ok," she said rather unenthusiastically and then she stepped inside.

Trent walked over to the kitchen. Daria followed him. He started boiling water on the stove to make some coffee and Daria watched, looking very disinterested. She crossed her arms and frowned.

"Daria, listen," Trent said. He kept his back turned to her and his eyes trained on the boiling water on the stove. "I feel really bad about the project. I screwed up and lost track of time…"

"Don't worry about it, Trent. I forgive you," Daria droned.

"Janey's mad at me because she's failing language arts," Trent said, eyes still trained on the boiling water. "She yelled at me and now she won't even talk to me."

"You know Jane can't stay mad at you," said Daria. "She loves you. …And besides, it is mostly her fault that she's failing language arts. She can't blame you completely."

"I guess that's true," Trent said, feeling a bit better. "You're really smart, Daria."

"Um…thanks…"

Trent turned toward Daria and looked her in the eyes. She stared back from behind large, thick-framed glasses and blinked. Her arms were still crossed; her expression still unreadable.

"I heard what you said this morning," Trent said.

Daria blushed.

"Uh…what did you hear?" she stumbled.

"About how you used to have a crush on me. But now you think I'm a deadbeat and a loser," said Trent and his blunt monotone made Daria cringe.

"Oh…you heard that, huh?" Daria droned miserably. "Yea, sorry. I didn't want you to find out that way. Or really ever."

"Is it true, Daria?"

Daria looked away from him and hugged her crossed arms tighter to her body.

"Um…" she said.

"Well, Daria, is it?" Trent asked again.

"I'm thinking," Daria said.

The room was quiet for a moment and then Daria answered: "When Jane first introduced me to you, yea….I was attracted to you, but then I got to know you and-"

"And now you're not attracted to me anymore?"

"Yea, pretty much. I like you as a friend but you're just really irresponsible. I don't think that we'd work as a couple. That's all," explained Daria.

"Ouch."

"Sorry, Trent. I didn't mean to be so brutally honest."

"No. That's ok. That's what I like about you Daria. You're so… _real_. Like, you always tell it like it is whether people want to hear it or not," said Trent.

Daria glanced at the clock on the wall of the kitchen.

"Well…I've got to go," Daria said. "I told Tom I'd meet up with him and some of his friends for pizza."

"Tom? But isn't that Jane's boyfriend?" Trent droned suspiciously.

"Just because he's Jane's boyfriend doesn't also mean that he can't be my _friend_ does it? You have a girlfriend and your friends with me." droned Daria, with a bit of irritation.

"Yea, cool….he's a cool guy," conceded Trent, though he was in truth a bit suspicious of the amount of time that Tom and Daria were spending together. "But I was thinking maybe…you could bail?"

"Huh?"

"Hang out with me instead?" Trent asked.

"I can't," said Daria bluntly. "I told them I'd be there. And unlike, _you_. I honor my commitments."

"Daria….I…"

"Besides isn't this about the time when you ditch _me_ to go rock out with your merry band of idiots," Daria droned sardonically and she turned to leave. "Well, now the shoe's on the other foot. _I'm_ ditching _you_."

"Daria, wait," Trent blurted out quickly as she began walking toward the door. "I like you too."

Daria turned back around.

"What?"

"I like you," said Trent quietly. "You know… _like_ , like you."

"Really?" Daria asked skeptically. The idea that a guy like Trent could be attracted to girl like her, in her mind at least, was a really far-fetched one. Though she had (as teenage girls often do about the boys they have crushes on in highschool) fantasized about their future married life together, the fantasy had always seemed pretty stupid and unrealistic. A relationship with Trent would never have worked. It was simply a bad idea.

"Yea," said Trent. "And I was thinking that…since you're getting older now….maybe we could be more than friends?"

Still, the temptation to give in to her attraction and simply make the terrible mistake that she knew a relationship with Trent would be, was a powerful one. He looked good today, with his short black hair gelled into messy spikes. Black stubble was cropping up around his goatee and she felt like she wanted to reach out and brush it with the tips of her fingers; to feel that rough texture against her skin. Trent was slender and tall and he was wearing a pair of loose, ripped jeans and a _Mystic Spiral_ band t-shirt that showed a lot of his skinny tattooed arms. The silver piercing in his ears glinted under the kitchen light.

"…Daria?" Trent asked. Confused and concerned by her long silence.

"What? I don't think I heard you right. Say that again?" Daria said.

"I want you to be my girlfriend," Trent said, staring into Daria's eyes.

Daria stared back for a moment.

"No," she replied bluntly.

"…What?"

"No, Trent. You're just not dependable…and we have different ideas about what a commitment is….you said it yourself."

"Daria…do you really think you can't depend on me?"

"Well…you've never failed to disappoint me yet," droned Daria sardonically.

"Daria…"

"Yea, I've got to go, Trent. This conversation is getting _really weird_ ," said Daria and then she turned to leave again.

"Come on, Daria. I always thought you kind of understood the way I think," said Trent.

Daria turned back toward Trent and looked at him again. It was even harder for her to resist him while he was making himself vulnerable like this. But a relationship with Trent was simply not a smart decision. She knew Trent well enough to understand that he would break her heart; let her down, disappoint her; and likely never have a job. He stayed out partying every night…probably having sex and doing drugs…and contracting _venereal diseases_ …It just wasn't a smart decision. She had to turn him down…and yet…she still hadn't left the house…

"I do, Trent," droned Daria, her eyes locking on Trent's. "I do….but that's why I know it wouldn't work. I'm really sorry, Trent. I hope we can still be friends."

"Oh…ok," Trent replied slowly, his voice breaking. He looked down and his lower lip quivered a bit. For a moment he looked so pathetic that it made Daria want to hug him, venereal diseases and all. "That's cool, Daria. Later."

Daria turned and started walking toward the door. Then she stopped.

"Oh god damn it," she groaned. Then turned around, walked back over to Trent and hugged him.

"Daria?" Trent murmured a bit confused by what was happening. Then he wrapped his arms around her and rested his chin on the top of her brunette head.

"Ok. Let's give this a shot," droned Daria. "I know its going to be a disaster but whatever."

"Relax, Daria. Just roll with it," said Trent, grinning slightly. "Things have a way of working themselves out."

…

Trent drove Daria to the pizza place. They got out of the car and on their way through the parking lot into the building, Trent put his arm around Daria's shoulders and walked with her like that. Daria felt her face grow hot as his warm body closed in around hers. It felt good but it also made her nervous. She remembered seeing Trent walk with other girls like this and feeling jealous. Then she wondered if other girls were looking at her with Trent now and feeling jealous of her. The thought made her smirk.

Daria caught a glimpse of herself and Trent in one of the windows of the building as they walked inside. She couldn't help but notice how cool she looked with her cool rock 'n roll boyfriend hanging off of her like a flashy fashion accessory. _Quinn, eat your heart out_ , she thought grinning. Then she silently berated herself for being so shallow and reminded herself that her relationship with Trent wouldn't last a week. The grin disappeared from her face and was replaced by her typical expression of apathy.

"Daria, Trent, hi!" Tom greeted cheerfully, waving them over to his table. He was sitting with a few other guys and girls, who seemed to all be in their late teens and early twenties.

"Hey, Tom," said Daria.

"Hey," droned Trent. He took his arm off of Daria and sat down in an empty space on the booth, sitting opposite Tom. Daria sat down next to him.

"I didn't know you two were dating," said Tom.

"Yea. If I'm lucky this relationship might last two days," droned Daria sarcastically and then she smiled slightly, despite herself.

"Daria's just a ray of sunshine today," said Trent.

"I can see that," said Tom.

The group ordered pizza, ate and talked about school. Tom asked about Jane and Trent told him that she was doing tutoring to get off of academic probation.

"Oh yea, she said she got a C on that multimedia project and that she needed an A to pass. She was pretty pissed at you for not having that music done," said Tom.

"Yea," said Trent, and he shot Tom a dirty look for bringing _that_ up again.

"And I thought that Daria Morgendorffer didn't get C's" Tom joked.

"Hm…I guess I do now," groaned Daria, remembering her frustration toward Trent. Daria was pretty good at pretending that she didn't care about things like grades…but secretly, she cared a lot. "Thanks to that stupid project, I have a B in language arts now." And she was bitter about it. Tom had reminded her that she was bitter about it.

"I thought that Daria Morgendorffer didn't get B's" Tom joked.

"Well obviously I do because I'm getting one now," Daria groaned and then she added snidely: "Thanks to Trent."

"Daria," Trent droned, narrowing his eyes with irritation. "I thought you said you weren't still mad about the project."

"Its never too early for relationship drama, is it?" Daria said to Tom, rolling her eyes. "No, Trent. I'm not still mad."

After lunch, Trent drove Daria home. On the way Daria founder herself feeling pissed off about her language arts grade and grew quiet. Then, the topic of the multimedia project came up again.

"You know I meant to finish it, Daria. I was just waiting for some inspiration, that's all. I don't believe in deadlines, you know that. I didn't finish it because I didn't have any inspiration," said Trent as he was driving.

"No, Trent," Daria mocked bluntly. "You didn't _start_ it because you don't have any _discipline_."

"Discipline," Trent repeated and a slight grin came over his face. "You know, Daria, you could give me some of that."

Daria blushed as she briefly imagined what Trent was hinting at. The image of herself dressed like a leather-clad s&m dominatrix standing over a partially naked Trent with a gag in his mouth invaded her imagination and she pushed the image away before she could get too aroused by it.

"No. Not that kind of _discipline_ ," she said. "Work ethic, _motivation_. You know what I mean."

"Come on, Daria," said Trent, grinning. "Don't you want to punish me?"

"Its not a _punishment_ if you _like it_ , Trent," droned Daria incredulously.

"It'll make you feel better about me letting you down," said Trent as he pulled into the driveway of the Lane house and parked. The two were silent for a moment. Then Daria spoke: "Trent," she said, quoting Trent and Jane's mother. "If you hold a butterfly…tightly in your hands…It will die-"

"Only when you set it free, if it returns to you. Then you will know that it is truly yours," Trent finished raising his voice an octave to mock his mother. He waved his hands around in the air the way that she did, when she said the thing about the butterfly.

They both laughed.

"I wouldn't want to bust your fragile little butterfly wings," Daria joked.

Trent laughed. Then he coughed and laughed. And then he coughed and got out of the car. Daria opened the passenger side of the car and got out as well.

"That's cool, Daria," said Trent. "Later."

Trent turned and walked toward the house.

"Trent, wait," Daria said.

Trent turned back around

"How long do you think your mom and Jane are going to be gone?"

Trent shrugged.

"I dunno, Daria. I don't really keep track of when stuff happens. It kind of a drag."

"Of course," Daria droned sarcastically. "That's why you don't wear a watch."

"Exactly," said Trent.

"I think you should wear a watch," said Daria.

Trent walked up to the front door and unlocked. Then he walked inside. Daria followed.

"Nah…they create tension and tension stifles creativity," Trent said.

"Well, aren't you a special little butterfly?" said Daria sarcastically.

"I'm an artist, Daria," said Trent.

"Right," said Daria.

"You wanna hear something I've been working on?" Trent asked.

"Sure."

Daria followed Trent up to his bedroom, which was always really messy because Trent never cleaned it. The floor was littered with empty soda cans, pizza boxes, guitar picks and various assorted crap. The bed was just a mattress with a few twisted up sheets thrown on top of it. There was a small bed side table next to it with a phone shaped like a duck on top and next to that was Trent's electric keyboard.

Trent kicked through some debris and grabbed his acoustic guitar. Then he sat down on the bed and started strumming it with a guitar pick.

"You've invaded my brain…Like a moth to a flame….I swear, girl….Its driving me insane," Trent sang. As usual, Trent sang a little bit off key and his lyrics were corny and lame. But Daria didn't care. He looked so cute playing his guitar that she was more than willing to just stare at him with a dazed grin on her face and tune the awful music out.

"You've invaded my brain….Like a moth to a flame….I can't get you outta' my head….I lay awake in bed…" Trent sang. Daria tried not to grimace but it was hard. The song was just so awful and stupid. It was starting to give her a headache.

"I just wanna' ride in the car with ya'….Daria…," Trent sang and for a moment Daria thought that this was the last line and that he was finished singing. She was wrong. He kept on singing.

Then Daria became frustrated. And in a desperate attempt to shut him up, she did something crazy; something that she couldn't have imagined herself doing twenty-four hours ago. She sat down on the bed next to him, leaned over and kissed him on the mouth, muffling his off-key monotone with her tongue. Trent dropped his guitar pick, and wrapped his arms around her, kissing her back. He was very aggressive with his tongue and Daria could tell that he had probably done this before…she was guessing with a lot of different girls. And now she was regretting her action; hoping that he Trent didn't have herpes in his mouth or something, from eating out some freaky rocker chick he'd hooked up with in the club. She considered pushing him away but then reconsidered. Kissing him felt good…and if by some chance his mouth was compromised…it was too late to turn back now, anyway.

Daria put her hands under Trent's t-shirt and felt contours of his back, while he ran his hands through her long brown hair. He smelled good, like cheap cologne and cold pizza, and tiny bristles on his face felt good against her mouth when she kissed him. His goatee tickled her chin. Trent took his hands out of Daria's hair and unbuttoned the fly on his jeans. Daria pushed him off of her and backed away from him.

"Trent…I'm not ready to go all the way….," Daria said.

"Oh," said Trent, sounding a bit disappointed. "Ok, Daria." He zipped his jeans back up and buttoned the fly.

"Its not that I don't like you. Its just that…"

"I get it," said Trent. "You're a prude."

"I am _not_ a prude," Daria said, a little indignantly. She crossed her arms.

"Uh huh," said Trent.

Daria stood up and walked across the room toward the door.

"Ow!" she yelled as her foot collided with something hard and heavy hidden under the debris. She looked down to see what it was and saw a large, dark blue, bowling ball covered in crumpled pieces of notebook paper with scribbled out song lyrics written on them.

"Why do you have a bowling ball?" Daria exclaimed indignantly, grabbing her damaged foot. She hopped back to Trent's mattress and laid down on it, massaging her damaged foot with one hand.

Trent shrugged.

"I dunno, Daria. I have a lot of crap," said Trent.

"You can say that again," droned Daria. "When was the last time you cleaned your room, anyway?"

"Uh…"

"Does cleaning your crap stifle creativity too?"

"Are you ok, Daria?" Trent asked, watching Daria rub her damaged foot.

"I'm fine," said Daria. "Just give me a minute."

"I've been really busy with my _career_ ," said Trent, sitting down at the foot of the bed. He put an heavy enthuses on the word "career" because of its importance to him. "Practicing, going to gigs and auditions. I'd finish cleaning up in here if I had more time."

"Don't you mean you would _start_ cleaning up in here if you had more _discipline_ ," droned Daria.

"You mean I need more _discipline,_ " Trent repeated, grinning slightly.

Daria blushed.

"Not that kind of discipline, Trent. You know what I mean," said Daria.

"Sure, I know what you mean," Trent teased. His smirk broadened and he winked. "I've been a baad boy. I messed up your language arts grade and got Jane on academic probation…that bowling ball exists…"

"Now, you see…I can't tell if you're kidding or not," droned Daria. "Do you really want me to hit you?"

"You can if it would make you feel better," said Trent. "Only on the ass, though and no coat hangers."

Daria stood up. The corners of her mouth twitched as she imagined what it might feel like to give Trent a well deserved spanking.

"Bend over, Trent," she said and a slight smirk curved her lips. "You're a pain in _my_ ass. Now its time to return the favor."

Trent knelt down on the floor and then bent forward over the mattress and laid down on his belly with his arms stretched out in front of him.

"Ok, I'm ready," said Trent, his slow deep monotone muffled slightly by the mattress underneath his face. "Let me have it."

Daria raised a hand into the air and brought it down on Trent's denim-clad behind. He flinched slightly, but probably, she figured, he couldn't feel the slap hardly at all through his clothes. She smacked his butt a few dozen times with the palm of her hand and his pants on. Then stopped. She couldn't imagine a person as lazy and pampered as Trent had a very high pain threshold.

"Come on, Daria, hit me harder than that," grunted Trent. "I can take it."

"Uh…ok, there, tough guy," said Daria and she started rooting around in a pile of Trent's junk, in search of something to hit him with that would make his spanking hurt more.

She found a wooden ruler under a pile of crumpled pieces of note book paper and broken guitar picks. Then raised it into the air and brought it down on Trent's raised butt. It made a swishing sound and then a loud cracking noise as it collided with Trent's left butt cheek. Trent arched his back and let out a grunt of pain.

"Are you ok, Trent?" Daria asked. "Was that too hard?"

"I'm strong, Daria. Really let me have it. Don't hold back," said Trent.

With a shaking hand, Daria grabbed the waist of Trent's loose jeans and pulled them down so that they fell in a pool at his knees, revealing a pail of long, skinny white legs and Trent's tighty-whitey clad ass. Dario could see the contours of his butt cheeks through the thin fabric on his underwear. It made her feel a stirring in her loins that was very pleasurable but also kind of frightening. She thought about pulling down his underwear too but then reconsidered. He probably wouldn't have objected to it but at the same time…this whole day was a huge step for Daria sexually. Trent was the first boy she had ever kissed and the sight of fully naked behind might have been too much for her to handle just now. And besides…his underwear clung to his crack in a way that made the skin on the underside of his butt cheeks visible. It left little to the imagination.

Daria raised the ruler and brought it down. It made the swishing sound and then a loud cracking noise as it struck Trent's behind. Trent flinched and let out a pained grunt. A pink mark radiated from the point of impact spreading to the skin on the underside of one of Trent's butt cheeks, which poked out from under his briefs. Daria began raising the yard stick and bringing it down hard on Trent's back side again and again. His grunts of pain became deep moans of "Ow…" and "Ouch…" The skin on the parts of his butt visible through his briefs was bright pink and Daria assumed correctly that this meant, beneath the briefs, Trent's entire ass was now that color.

"This should teach you, not to bail out on your commitments," Daria said sternly. Though she knew that in reality this wouldn't teach Trent not to bail on anything, since obviously, he liked it. It was just fun to say.

Daria struck Trent's ass again with the ruler. The fat there giggled and a red stain spread over the parts of his skin that she could see.

"Finish what you start," Daria said and she smacked him again.

"Ow!" Trent yelled. His back arched and he gritted his teeth against the pain.

"Respect deadlines," Daria daid and she smacked him again.

"Ouuch!" Trent whimpered flinching away from the ruler. He bit his lower lip and squeezed his eyes shut.

"And wear."

"Owww!"

"A damn."

" _Owwww!"_

"Watch."

" _Oww!_ Daria, enough! That's too hard," Trent moaned sounding warblely and pathetic.

Daria put the ruler down.

"Sorry, Trent. I guess I got carried away," she said.

Trent stood up and pulled up his jeans, flinching as they brushed against his sore butt.

"Don't sweat it, Daria," said Trent and he winked in her direction. "I had it coming."

He walked over to her, put his arms around her and gave her a peck on the lips.

"Later, babe," he said "I've got a gig tonight at the Lawndale Oaks Senior Bingo Tournament and I plan to _honor_ that commitment."

"Ok," said Daria. "See ya'."

After that day, Trent always wore a watch.

But it was a digital watch.

And there were never batteries in it.

The End.


End file.
